


Nothing Spoken

by AwayLaughing



Series: All The Days That Have Passed [23]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, M/M, Minor Character Death, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2730977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Of the dead, nothing spoken unless good</i> is an old commandment so Neji keeps his tongue firmly between his teeth. His grandfather would not have wanted his words anyway. Of course, someone else might. And someone else might even accept what he has to say, good or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Spoken

**Author's Note:**

> So fair warning, this is a funeral-based fic but in no way a mourning one.
> 
> At all.
> 
>  
> 
> [Day 23 - A Funeral](http://awayandlaughing.tumblr.com/post/68217772129/30-day-otp-challenge-for-the-fluff-impaired)

The knock on his door startled Neji somewhat. Few people bothered him at home, and when they did they usually didn't knock. Hinata would, unless she was with Hanabi who would just waltz in and sit on his couch and demand to know if he'd invested in any snack foods yet. Any of his friends would follow suit, mostly, except Lee who never sat and Shikamaru who usually couldn't be bothered to climb the stairs.

 

Opening the door into the late afternoon sun and cool breeze of late September, he was greeted instead by a cousin, Irori. A distant one, distant enough there had been a few mutters about Neji and herself. Mutters Neji had pointedly ignored until eventually they died. While usually a cheerful if shy girl, today Irori was drawn, face pale and eyes downcast.

 

“Neji-san,” she said, bowing lowly. Lower than necessary. The favour the main branch deigned to bestow on him meant nothing to Neji himself. As if lacing it with gold made a leash any less of a tether. It had put him apart from the other branch members all his life, however. A very lonely limbo, once upon a time. Less so now. “I have the poor luck in being the one to inform you Hyūga Henshou has passed away.”

 

For a moment Neji couldn't even process the words, and then he had to work hard not to snort and say _good_. As if he would be upset by the death of his grandfather. As if anyone would. His sons and wife, the only people who might be deluded into still loving him, were all dead before their time. His heart ached when he thought of how both parents had outlived their sons. Two vile, terrible people had outlived the very boys they'd made and broken, and only now was the last of the two gone. Good fucking riddance, he thought.

 

Neji did not say that, however.

 

“I am most surprised to hear of sofu-sama's passing,” he said instead, “was he ill and no one thought to tell his eldest grandchild?” And least favourite. Hinata was an embarrassment to the main clan, yes, but Neji had been the problem child. The only thing more distasteful to his grandfather than being less than perfect was being better than you should be.

 

Irori shook her head, her long, twin braids waving almost comically.

 

“He passed while practising his afternoon kata,” she said, “the doctors said there was a brain aneurysm that had gone unnoticed. As I understand, something he was doing caused it to rupture.” Neji almost raised an eyebrow at that.

 

A brain aneurysm? And no one had noticed? How many people sparred or watched his grandfather every day. Aneurysms could sit for years without anything happening, sometimes entire lives. It did not seem possible Hanabi and Hinata or even Hiashi-sama had never spotted it. Had they mentioned it and been brushed aside? Had they stayed silent, hoping? It was impossible to really consider either, and yet both were equally probable.

 

Neji offered Irori a slight bow. “Thank you for conveying the news,” he said, “please tell my cousins I will be with them shortly, and will take to my old rooms until the funeral is over.” They would need help arranging the funeral after all, and it was easier if he was at the main house. Irori nodded again, smiling softly.

 

“I am sorry for you loss, Neji-san,” she said.

 

“Thank you,” Neji said. _Don't be._

 

* * *

 

 

Three days later, Neji stood in the early morning and for once wished he could be in bed. Or maybe on a mission. Breath fogged the air as the Hyūga family collected in the early morning cold. The entire clan was collected, ranging in black-clad rows in the large green space that was the family commons. Neji stood near the front, next to Hanabi, watching impassively as his grandfather's body was put to the flames. Around him, family members chanted in time with the monks. The sermons and rites had all ready been given, and Neji was relieved to realize the funeral was very almost over. His back very almost relaxed just thinking about leaving.

 

Even as his mind strayed to how much he wanted to walk away right this second, he mouthed the words to the last chant. He knew them by rote now – at one point after the war it had echoed through the village every hour for almost a week. Now, however, Neji's heart wasn't in it. He just wanted to leave and be done with this for good.

 

He just wanted to be done with _him_ for good. He didn't think his grandfather was worth this. All he'd ever done in life was destroy things, what was there to mourn?  


 

 

* * *

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Neji found himself sitting on a hill in the middle of the Nara lands, tree at his back, watching Shikamaru reunite a mother and two fawns. He'd spent the last month, Neji knew, helping the two baby deer both over some disease that had struck them. Shikamaru, apparently certain they were going to be all right as their mother licked over them, stood, brushing his hands on his pants.

 

“Hey,” he said, shielding his eyes from the sun, “how was the funeral?”

 

“Long and boring,” Neji said, leaning more of his weight against the tree. “Hinata asked me to stay for the reception afterwards but...” he grimaced. “I could not.” Shikamaru didn't question him, just folded himself into a sitting position across from Neji.

 

“Yeah. Funerals suck,” he said instead. A simple, easy acceptance most people wouldn't have offered. Neji appreciated it, closing his eyes and letting the sun heat his face. They sat like that in silence for well over half an hour, Neji lapsing into a semi-meditative trance. The last three days had been so hectic he'd not gotten any time to himself, let alone with Shikamaru, and even just enjoying the quiet with him was a balm on frayed nerves.

 

Being perfectly honest with himself, he did not mourn his grandfather in the slightest. Hyūga Henshou had been exemplary of all things wrong with the Hyūga clan. He'd devalued the Branch members as people, he'd isolated and ridiculed Hinata and pushed Hanabi, making clear how conditional his favour was. Before Hizashi's death he'd been cold to Neji, and Neji had been too young to understand why or the significance. After his father's death, Neji had simply avoided the man least his own hatred show and reap punishment.

 

Looking back, he realized it was very wrong for a four year old to know hatred, let alone of family. Very wrong for a four year old to fear his family, though less rare.

 

Guilt of some sort had settled in, however, at his relief. He understood the Hyūga clan was that, a clan, not a family. Maybe they had been, long ago, but it was before Neji's time. Likely before his grandfather's. All the same a part of him a part stuck in the past some eighteen odd years, insisted grandchildren were supposed to mourn their grandparents. It was far too loud, and finally Neji opened his eyes, looking up at the sky through the filter of the empty tree branches.

 

“I hated him.”

 

The admission left a ringing silence in the still clearing, and he did not dare look at Shikamaru, not even when he heard the other move. Not until a hand cupped his chin and forced him to look at Shikamaru. The Nara's face was incredibly serious, not a hint of teasing or disinterest in his eyes, not the slightest trace of smile on his lips. Just the full force of all of his interest and intelligence. It was heavy in a way most things with Shikamaru weren't. Neji forced himself to hold the gaze with great difficulty.

 

The chances of Shikamaru, of all people, judging him for not this were slim, but the Nara clan was closer than the Hyūga. Shikamaru could never truly understand. How could he, when he came from a clan who was famous for how dearly it loved two, three, other clans? How well they worked together? Neji's words must have been unthinkable. Neji's eyes lowered at the thought, shaken by his own guilt into reading into the contemplative silence.

 

“It's okay,” Shikamaru said, voice a knife through the silence. “You don't owe him anything.”

 

Neji blinked, not daring to break the eye contact between them, yet not wanting to reveal just how deeply those words struck. The way Shikamaru's eyes crinkled at the corners suggested he failed, as did the kiss pressed to the tip of his nose. In response Neji reared back, fighting a smile. Fighting relief. Shikamaru just smirked, leaning forward.

 

“There we go,” he said. Neji cocked an eyebrow.

 

“I see.”

 

Shikamaru, to his surprise, laughing, pressing another kiss, this time to his cheek. “I just wanted to see you smile,” he said. Instinctively, Neji schooled his face into a neutral frown. Or, tried to, but the way Shikamaru was looking at him, and the gentle press of long fingers into his skull made it unduly difficult.

 

“It hasn't exactly been a happy few days,” Neji said, “but I appreciate the endeavour.”

 

“Do you really?” Shikamaru asked, cocking his head.

 

“Yes,” Neji said, “I think you should keep it up.” Shikamaru chuckled, resting their foreheads together. Neji closed his eyes, letting the heat leech past the thin bandage around his head.

 

“I will,” Shikamaru said, “don't worry.”


End file.
